Our Brat
by WritingGirl92
Summary: Carlisle and Esme are having difficulties with their nephew, Edward. Contain disciplinary spanking, If you don't like, don't read!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga**

**Hey guys, so here's my new story. It's based in the 1920's, and is all human, so it's a little different from what I usually do. Please tell me what you think!**

**A/N: Contains disciplinary spanking. If you don't like, don't read!**

"I hate it here! You're so unfair!" My sixteen year old nephew screams as he stomps through our home. His bedroom door slams shut, and after a few seconds of silence, I let out the breath I was holding. At least he isn't throwing things this time.

"Carlisle, you need to go take care of that behavior." My wife Esme says with anger in her eyes.

The stress amongst my little family has grown tremendously. My nephew Edward has always been headstrong and stubborn, but it has increased lately. He's been behaving worse than ever before. When Edward first came to live with us, he was twelve years old. His parents, my brother and sister-in-law, were just hospitalized for a horrible bout of the flu and asked Esme and I to look after their beloved son. Of course we welcomed him into our home with open arms. From a young age, Edward was intelligent and sly. His father, Edward Senior, loved this about his son and did everything he could to encourage Edward Junior to keep that frame of mind. Although it created a unique and creative thinker, it also created a sneaky troublemaker. When he was little, this sneakiness was 'cute' in his parents eyes. They saw nothing harmful in his attempts to get into the candy they limited him on or his manipulative behavior to get a new toy or a special privilege from Edward Senior. I'm sure my brother had no idea that he was setting his boy up to be the way he is now.

His parents passed away two weeks after Edward moved in with us. The day before they died, Esme caught Edward in the middle of stealing coins from our room, and he proceeded to lie about it when she questioned him. When I returned home from work, he was standing in the corner, waiting for me. Esme took me aside and explained what happened. When I called Edward over to me, he lied again. He got a spanking from me that day. Edward Senior rarely spanked his boy, and when he did, it was just one quick swat, so Edward was shocked when his trousers came down and he was bent over my knee for a real spanking. Once we were done, Edward was in tears with a red hind end, and after a hug and some quick comfort from both Esme and I, he was forgiven and we went on with our day without any more trouble from him. That was the last time he was spanked by me, but it definitely was not the last time he deserved to be spanked.

The next day was hard on him as we had to tell him about his parents death. His brown eyes were full of tears for days after, and it killed me to see him upset. I love my nephew as I would my own child, and to see him so distraught just torn my heart to pieces.

"He's just angry. I'm sure he had a rough day." I respond quickly, hoping to discern the thought I know is in her head.

"Bad day or not, Edward has no right to act like that!"

"Honey, let us all cool down before we do anything." I compromise. She shakes her head.

"That boy needs to get his rear end lit up." She says firmly.

"Esme," I sigh. She's been telling me that for years now.

"This behavior is ridiculous! He has no excuse for going off like that. I'll tell you what, Carlisle. If you don't put an end to this behavior, then I will."

I sigh. If she had her way, she would have taken a belt to Edward's rear years ago. I refuse to let her, though. She'll give him a swat or two every now and then, but I fear that if she goes to truly discipline him, he will just over power her. He's always had a hard time holding his temper, and for the past few months he has taken to throwing things when he's angry. I refuse to let my wife be put in his path of anger.

"I'll talk to him, Esme, and I'll get this straightened out." I promise.

"You need to pull him over your knee, then talk." She says. "It's the only way to get his attention. If you don't, he won't listen to a word you say."

I wait a moment before admitting defeat. I nod slightly.

"I'll take care of it."

oOoOo

"Edward," I say and push his door open. Laying on his stomach atop his quilt-covered bed, he looks up from his book at me.

"Yes?"

"We need to talk, son."

"About?" He asks as I walk in. When I sit on the edge of his bed, he shuts the book and eyes me suspiciously.

"Your behavior. Your actions today were unacceptable. I'm sorry, Edward, but you have to be punished."

"No!" He flies up into a sitting position. It amazes me how he instantly knows what punishment I'm speaking of. "Carlisle, you can't!"

"I'm sorry, Edward, but you've brought it on yourself." I sigh and stand from the bed.

"I didn't mean it!" He protests.

"Either stand up or lay back down on your stomach." I instruct.

Edward looks up at me with those big brown eyes. They fill up with tears, and he looks just like a scared, broken little boy. It pulls at me heart and I start to doubt if he really deserves to be spanked.

"My Dad never hit me." He whispers in a sad voice as he scoots off the bed and stands right where I need him to be.

That does it for me. There's no way I can do this.

I pull my hand back only a few inches from the seat his pants, and the smack that comes down is only about as hard as a pat on the back.

I wrap one arm around his shoulder and pull him closer to my side. He's tears slowly start to escape. I know they're not coming from the actually spanking, but I still feel horrible for putting those tears in his eyes.

"Let's go get a milkshake. What do you say?" I ask with a squeeze of his shoulders. He nods and looks to the ground.

"My dad always took me to get milkshakes."

"Get your jacket. I'll be waiting in the car." I say and pat his back before leaving his room. Halfway down the hall, I turn back around to tell him that the next time he acts so outrageously, he will be getting a real whooping. As I peer into the doorway, I see him wiping away his tears and smirking.

The boy can play me like a fiddle, and he knows it.

**So what do you think? Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

"So I met this girl at the book store yesterday." Edward says with a big smile as he and Esme dance throughout the living room to the music from the radio.

"Oh yeah?" Esme smiles.

"She's beautiful. Beautiful and smart. Her eyes are perfect, and she's spunky." He tells her. I hold back a chuckle. For Edward to say a girl is smart and beautiful is rare. And she must be a real spitfire if our Edward is calling her spunky. "I think I'm going to ask her out one day."

"You've just met her, Edward. Don't let her run away with your heart." Esme cautions him. He spins her under his arm.

"Esme, we even like the same books. She's not running away." He says with a smile.

The song ends and Esme is able to break away from Edward. He decides to settle down on the couch and flip through my new book. Esme comes over to me.

"How long do you think it will be until he crashes?" She asks in a whisper.

"I'll give it a half hour." I respond back in a low voice.

"Really? I'm leaning more towards fifteen minutes or less."

"No way. He's still bouncing off the walls." I gesture over to Edward. His posture is ridged and his feet tap wildly on the floor.

Once Edward and I arrived at the diner, he caught sight of a ice cream sundae. He used his brown eyes and child-like face against me again, and I agreed to let him have one. And, of course, he had to have a soda as well. There's reasons that he only gets so much sugar in one setting, and we were seeing it now. The boy gets full of energy, and gets into everything. I was hoping to finish that book myself before Edward got his nose into it. I won't get it back until he's done reading it if he likes it.

"Fifteen minutes or less." Esme repeats herself.

We join Edward on the couch and start discussing my work, but we both keep an eye on Edward. After a few minutes, he pulls his feet on the couch. He shifts his position so his legs are stretched to one end of the couch and his head rests on the arm on the other end. He keeps the book open and continues to look through it. In another few minutes, he's struggling to keep his eyes open. Soon, the book is sat on his chest and he's snoring. I glance at the clock.

"Fourteen minutes." I sigh. Esme smiles at me.

"I know my boy." She says, but her smile soon fades to a frown. "I know my husband to. You did nothing about his fit today, did you?"

I don't say anything. Instead, I stand from the couch and go to the hall to get Edward a blanket from the closet. Esme follows.

"Carlisle, are you serious? You let that boy get away with everything!" She complains.

"Esme, he was crying." I tell her. She scoffs and shakes her head.

"Have you not noticed that Edward is the king of phony tears? He's been like that from day one! That's how he got his way with Edward Senior."

I don't say anything, because I honestly can't say anything. She's right. He always did the same thing to his father. Snatching the blanket from the top shelf, I shut the closet door and head back to the living room.

"His behavior is not getting any better, Carlisle, and it won't unless someone puts their foot down!"

"He understands that he was wrong." I promise.

"Every time you put it off, it's just getting worse."

I shake my head. Once we enter the living room, I drape the blanket over Edward. Esme stands by me, and we both look down at our sleeping nephew.

"Edward Senior never whooped him. It would break Junior's heart if I did." I say in a whisper. Esme sighs.

"It's been four years since Senior died, Carlisle."

"But he wouldn't spank him if he was still here."

"I think you brother would be singing a different tune about his boy if he were here to see Edward screaming at us today, or see the dish Edward shattered last week when he was angry. Do you realize how out of control this is getting to be?" She asks me, a look of worry on her face.

"It's not out of control." I tell her.

"Four dishes, a pair of shoes, three books, and a hairbrush."

I raise a questioning brow at her.

"That's everything he's thrown in a fit of anger so far."

I sigh as I take it all in. When she lays it out like that, I can't deny that it is getting out of control. It's easy for me to look over one individual fit and what happened, but clumping them all together truly shows how serious this is getting.

"Three of the four dishes broke. There's a dent in the wall from the hairbrush." She sighs. "Carlisle, I know you love him. I love him, too. But this is not okay."

"I know." I admit quietly.

"Something has to be done." She pats my shoulder, then turns and leaves the living room without another word.

I grab the book off of Edward's chest and find the page I was last on. I try reading, but my eyes keep leaving the page and looking over at Edward.

He is not going to be happy when he realizes the consequences around this home are changing.

**So, any guesses of what's to come? Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

As I pour myself a cup of water at the hospital, I groan and rub my forehead. It's a slow day here, but I'm still exhausted. Dr. Anderson chuckles at me.

"What's wrong, Cullen?" He asks.

"I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Was it Edward keeping you up?"

I nod. Dr. Anderson has a boy that's Edward's age, and they're friends. His son, Harris, is a bit of a trouble maker, but honestly, Edward is the one who guides Harris to trouble. Dr. Anderson is always making jokes about our boys behavior, but I know it drives him crazy that Edward isn't punished like Harris is when they get into trouble. I always told myself that it's not my fault that his kid falls into peer pressure.

"He's been acting out lately, and I have to put a stop to this before it gets worse." I explain.

"Oh, so you're finally going to have to punish your little prince?" He laughs.

"Looks like it."

"From what you've told me about how that prince of yours acts, he is way overdue for some discipline."

"It's a little more complicated than that."

"How so?"

I held back a scoff. Does he not see it? First, I'm not Edward's father. I'm his uncle. It should be the father who is the disciplinarian. That brings me to the next problem. Edward Senior had his own unique way of handling his boy, and Junior won't accept any other way without a fight. And, of course, Dr. Anderson had no idea what my nephew means to me. I can't do a thing when he starts crying. I can't stand to see him like that.

"I think it's you who makes it more complicated, Carlisle." He says. I shake my head. "It's all you, my friend."

* * *

I sigh as I pull into my driveway. The lights cast a warm and inviting glow through the windows, illuminating Esme's well cared for flower bed. The lawn wasn't cut, though. It was the only chore Edward had today, but it didn't get done. I don't want to argue with him about it tonight. His most likely already in his room for the night, getting through a few chapters of his current book before going to sleep.

I park the car, grab what I need out of it and head into my home. I had hopes that it would be just as peaceful on the inside as it is on the out, but what I see is far from peaceful.

"You stupid bitch!" Edward hisses in Esme's face. He has her pinned to the wall in the hallway by her wrists, his face only a few inches away from hers. His hands are bigger than her wrists, but I can see where her skin is being pinched together due to how hard he's holding into her. She looks absolutely terrified. Edward's face is bright red

"Edward! Let her go!" I demand and quickly go over to him. I grab his wrists, switching his attention from Esme to me.

"Fuck off! This isn't about you!" He growls. I shake my head.

"It is now, Edward." I tell him. He drops Esme's wrists and steps into my chest.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

**Another short chapter. What do you think is going to happen? Any predictions? Please Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

"You're going to go to your room, shut the door quietly, and wait there for me to come deal with you." I tell my angry nephew. I try to stay calm, but it's a challenge.

"For you to deal with me? What the hell does that mean?" Edward yells as he steps closer to me.

"It means you're going to be punished. Now go!" I point down the hall. He puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes backwards. I stay were I am, which just makes him even more upset. He tries to push me again, but still it doesn't work. Before he can try a third time, I grab his wrists.

"Let me go!" He screams and stomps on my foot. It takes everything I have to let go of his wrists in reaction to his stomp.

"When I let go of you, you are to go to your room. Understand?" I ask. Instead of responding, he scowls at me. I drop his wrists anyways. "Go, Edward."

"Fuck you!" He yells and pushes my shoulders again. "Fuck-"

Before he can finish the word, I grab his arm and spin him around. I don't hesitate with smacking his rear end. As soon as the first swat makes contact with the seat of his jeans, he yelps and tries to pull away from me.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" He says quickly, his tone changing to an innocent plea. For a quick second he has me pulled into his fake cry, but I remind myself about the scene I walked in on. "Carlisle, I'm sorry!"

"You do _not_ act like this!" I tell him. I pull my arm back again, but he throws his hand over his rear.

"Stop!" Edward yells and spins around, the sweet little boy act over. I still keep my grip on his arm. "God dammit, Carlisle!"

"This behavior of yours is unacceptable! You will _not_ put your hands on Esme!"

"Fuck you, Carlisle!"

"Don't curse at me, young man!"

"I hate you!"

"Go to your room. Now." I command and release his arm.

Instead of doing what I told him, Edward takes a step closer to me. Before he has the chance to push or yell, I spin him around again and land one hard smack on his bottom. He jumps away from me.

"I hate you!" He screams and stomps off to his room. I watch him slam the door harder than ever before. I sigh and turn to Esme, who's still against the wall, looking terrified.

"Are you okay, honey?" I ask. She nods yes. "What happened?"

"He came home and was angry. Something must have happened in his class today. He wouldn't tell me what's wrong." She explains and starts to cry. "He was being mean, hateful, and I told him his father wouldn't be proud of his behavior. That's when he blew up."

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into a hug. She rests her forehead on my shoulder as she cries. I pray that she doesn't have bruises on her wrist from Edward's hands. I sigh and hold her tighter.

How did we let this get so out of hand?

**Review?**


	5. Chapter 5

"Explain yourself, Edward." I say as I lean against his doorframe. He's laying on his stomach on his bed with his head buried in his pillow.

"No!"

"Edward," I sigh and walk in. "We have to talk about this."

"Leave me alone!"

"You know better than to put your hands on Esme."

"You didn't hear what she said to me!"

"Then explain to me what happened so I understand." I tell him and sit on the edge of his bed. I rub his shoulder, but he yanks away from my touch.

"She had the nerve to say my father wouldn't be proud of me!" He says as he sits up. His face is twisted with anger. "She has no right to say anything about my father!"

"She said he wouldn't be proud of you?" I ask calmly. I know Esme wouldn't lie to me, and I have a feeling Edward took 'he wouldn't be proud of your behavior' as 'he wouldn't be proud of you'. "Start from the beginning. How did this all happen?"

"I came home, she was annoying me, and she told me that my father wouldn't be proud of me." He spits out angrily.

"A little more detail, please."

"That's all there is!" Edward huffs and jumps to his feet. He starts pacing around his room.

"What was she doing to annoy you?"

"I was just annoyed, okay?"

He keeps pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching as he does. He angrily mumbles to himself.

"Edward, I think there was a misunderstanding about what Esme said to you." I say.

Edward snaps his head up and glares at me with his fire like angry eyes.

"I know what she said! I'm not deaf!"

"Did she say you father wouldn't be proud of you, or proud of your behavior?"

His angry look softens just slightly, but it quickly returns to the bitter look he wears so often.

"It doesn't matter!"

"Actually, it does. Saying your father isn't proud of you is completely unacceptable and untrue. You're an intelligent, handsome young man. Edward Senior would be so proud of you. But your behavior is not something he would be proud of. He would be very disappointed if he knew you grabbed Esme and pinned her to the wall like you did today."

"Shut the hell up!" He yells at me.

"But the thing is, you can change your behavior." I say. Edward shakes his head.

"Edward, honey," I hear Esme say in a soft, quiet voice. I look over to see her in the doorway.

"Go away!" Edward yells at her.

"Sweetie, let's talk about this, please."

Edward doesn't respond verbally. Instead, he snatches a book off of his bookshelf and chucks it at Esme. As soon as I realize what he's doing, I jump up and grab his arms, hoping to stop him. I'm too late, though. Luckily, Esme thinks quickly and jumps out of the way.

"Let me go!" Edward screams as he tries to yank away from me. I keep my hold on him strong and pull him over towards the bed.

"You've done it now, son." I tell him.

When we reach the bed, I sit down and pull him over my lap. He must remember what happened when he was twelve and was in this position, because he kicks and twist to try to get away from me. I pin his legs between mine, and it eliminates the effectiveness of his struggle.

"You can't do this to me!" He yells.

"Let's get something straight, Edward." I say and start whooping his tail end. "I am your guardian, meaning it is my job to teach you right from wrong. To do that, you must be punished for your wrongdoings. So yes, I can do this to you."

"Stop!" He starts to cry and he throws his hand over his rear.

"Move your hand, Edward."

"No!"

"Move your hand or you're going to get a belt taken to you!" I warn him.

"You wouldn't dare." He growls.

I grab his shoulders and pull his torso upright, but still keep my legs around his.

"Take your belt off." I tell him.

He eyes me suspiciously as tears run down his cheeks, most likely trying to judge if I am bluffing or not. He sniffs and wipes his eyes before reaching down to undo his belt. More tears overflow from his eyes as he pulls the thin piece of leather from his belt loops.

"My Dad never did this to me." He whispers just loud enough for me to hear before he leans back over my knee. I glance down at his face, only to see that cocky smirk he though I wasn't seeing.


End file.
